A Floofy Debate
by CharlotteAshmore
Summary: Due to a tragic accident in the shop, Rumpel is forced to get a haircut. Belle is not pleased with the results.


**Disclaimer:** Really? This again? I do not own anything affiliated with Once Upon A Time. This is just for fun. No profit to be made etc etc. No copyright infringement intended. There! Happy?

Fandom: OUAT

Pairing: Rumbelle

Rating: T

 **Tags:** *Belle/Rumpelstiltskin, *Regina, *Floof, *Haircut, *Arguing Rumbelle, *Fkn plot bunnies!

 **Summary:** Due to a tragic accident in the shop, Rumpel is forced to get a haircut. Belle is not pleased with the results.

 **A/N:** So I was on tumblr (which is rare these days) and there was a screenshot (2 actually) of how Robert's hair is growing in and the floof will be back before we know it. The pic showed Robert and Emilie filming and someone asked: I wonder if they're arguing about his haircut. Which of course set me off with a fkn plot bunny! Like I have nothing better to do *grumbles* Apparently not, because otherwise I wouldn't have written this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

 **A Floofy Debate**

 **By:**

 **Charlotte Ashmore**

Rumpelstiltskin slammed the door of the shop behind him and threw the deadbolt. He didn't bother with the closed sign. No one respected it in this gods forsaken town anyway. Sometimes, he wished the curse had never been broken. Then at least the townspeople had the proper fear – and a modicum of respect – for him. But then his precious wife would still be locked away with him none the wiser. No, it was better this way … perhaps if only because of Belle and his unborn child.

He moved into the back room, reaching for his potions bag. Emma had a bug up her butt, and of course he'd been the one she came to for assistance. Not a literal bug, mind, but rather a Raksa. Someone really needed to take that blasted wand away from Zelena before she could cause any more mischief. Regina had assured him it was an accident, but he had his doubts.

And of all things to have slipped through that bloody portal! A Raksa's sole purpose was to bring out the worst possible proclivities in humas … greed, shallowness, wrath. He didn't even want to think of what would happen to the citizens of Storybrooke if it weren't caught and sent back from whence it came. Unfortunately, a Raksa was a shapeshifter which could take on either human or animal form. What kind of hell would be unleashed if it took on the form of someone like Regina with all her magical abilities? Rumpelstiltskin shuddered. Or him?

If the situation weren't so dire, he'd find a great sense of smug satisfaction to let the heroes deal with it on their own. But he couldn't allow any harm to come to his little family. Belle and their child must be protected at all costs. Which was why he was in the shop going through his potions bag instead of at home with his wife where he belonged on a sunny Saturday afternoon. He growled low in his throat as he pulled out an empty vial. He'd forgotten to replenish his stores after he'd used it to reveal the true form of that succubus. He should have just let the damn thing drain Killian dry and be done with him.

He sighed. Sometimes he wished he weren't so susceptible to Belle's pleading, but one look at those big cerulean eyes and pouty lip, and he was done for. Grumbling under his breath, he began to pull the ingredients he'd need from the cupboard, carrying them over to the pewter cauldron he called forth with his magic. He frowned down at the red vial in his hand, the one containing bashmu venom. The snake's venom was highly volatile if used in its purest form, but diluted into the potion, it would give it just the right kick. He'd been rather fortunate to con Jafar out of the small vial since the sorcerer jealously guarded his power.

A giggle slipped past his lips as they curled into his trademark smirk. He enjoyed the fine art of potion making, though the Dark One was harder to rein in during the process. Apparently the demon enjoyed it as much as he did. He glanced at the ornate clock hanging over the door and scowled. It was already one-thirty, and the potion needed to steep for another hour. What he wouldn't have given to be home with his beloved wife. A cozy afternoon in their library. Tea with honey. Her sweet voice competing with the crackling of a fire in the hearth.

Maybe he could speed things up a bit. He brought his hand up flat over the swirling blue green potion and closed his eyes, chanting the necessary words to have his magic comply with his wishes. He nodded in satisfaction as he ladled the brew into a half a dozen vials. Pocketing one of the vials to deliver to Emma, he stored the rest in his bag. The way things were in their town, he was sure to need that particular potion again in the future. He cleaned and stored the cauldron once more. Soon, he'd be ensconced in his home with his wife, and he could put the day's events behind him.

And then the worst possible thing which could have happened … He should have just banished the potion ingredients back into the cupboard instead of carrying them. The bashmu venom fell to the ground – his dark sable gaze tracking it almost in slow motion – knowing even his magic couldn't save it. Still, he tried, diving for the little red vial.

The room erupted in a shower of evil red sparks, tendrils of flame catching onto every surface. Smoke billowed from the windows, and he collapsed to the floor of the back room, Belle his last thought before slipping into the comforting darkness of unconsciousness.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin sucked in a sharp breath as he fought his way back to wakefulness, and coughed. He blinked, cringing back when he encountered Regina looming over him. _Lovely. I've died and gone to hell._ No, that wasn't possible … he was the Dark One. The acrid smell of smoke jolted him. The explosion must have brought her running.

"Back off, dearie," he snarled, trying to sit up.

"Well, it's about time you woke up. What the hell were you doing to cause such a blast?" the queen asked, a hand to his shoulder to hold him in place.

He shook her off, but didn't decline the water bottle she pressed into his hands. "I was brewing that damn potion Emma needs, and I dropped something," he quickly explained. He nearly choked when he caught sight of his tattered suit. And Belle's favorite tie. Oh, she wasn't going to be happy. "How'd you even know?" He eyed Regina suspiciously.

She dusted her hands off as she rose to her feet. "That explosion shook three city blocks, imp. Who else has that kind of power?" she snarked, arching one raven's wing brow in his direction. "What'd you drop anyway?"

His lip curled back into a sneer. "None of your concern, dearie. Besides, it's of little importance since it was the last of what I had."

Regina tsked. "Always so secretive. I thought we'd moved past that."

Rumpelstiltskin snorted, and pushed himself to his feet. His clothing was still smoking a little, but the shop was relatively undamaged due to the protective charms he'd placed on it. He handed her the potion he pulled from his pocket. "Here … the potion Emma wanted to reveal the Raksa."

She leaned a hip against his desk and smirked. "I'd say you have bigger problems just now, Rumpel. Or at least you will when Belle sees you."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking down at himself. "I have a spare suit I keep here for situations such as this. She doesn't need to know –"

"That you nearly blew yourself up?" the queen finished. "Probably wouldn't be the first time. Surely, something like this happened back when she was your maid?" She tittered a chuckle. "But I wasn't talking about your clothes, dear."

He shot her a puzzled look as she conjured an ivory handled mirror and held it out to him. Deciding it would be quicker to get rid of her should he humor her, he held it out in front of him, staring dumbstruck at his reflection.

Her eyes filled with tears as she took in his horrified expression. "See for yourself, Rumpel dear … the consequenses of magic." And she was off again with fresh peals of laughter.

Curses fell from his thin lips as he thought about what his darling wife was going to have to say about this latest calamity. His hand rose to the tips of his singed hair, some places long strands had completely been burned away. He looked ridiculous, and that wasn't even taking into account the soot covering his face.

"Fucking hell! How am I going to fix this?" he groaned. "I can't very well wear a glamour until this rights itself."

Regina feigned a gasp, mocking him, enjoying his little descent into panic. "You know you can't let Belle see you like this. You just threatened the entire town last week not to cause her any undue stress during the remainder of her pregnancy."

He grimaced, remembering quite clearly his little tantrum after Dr. Bryan had warned them about her slightly elevated blood pressure. Not one of his finer moments. "What do you propose?" he asked warily, his eyes narrowed to slits at his frenemy.

"You're going to have to cut your hair."

"What?!"

She looked entirely too smug. "You heard me, dear. You might not like it, but you have no other choice." Regina hopped down off the desk and reached for her phone in her designer bag. "Go get cleaned up and I'll see if Zel can fit you in this afternoon to do something with that … mop."

Rumpelstiltskin took one more look at his shell shocked appearance in the mirror, bit back a curse, and reluctantly stalked into the bathroom to clean himself up.

*.*.*

Rumpelstiltskin felt like a thief sneaking into his own house. He set his keys in the bowl resting on the ornate table there in the foyer, and divested himself of his expensive wool coat, trying to make as little noise as possible. The mirror hanging there mocked him as he glared at his reflection. Zel – otherwise known as Rapunzel in their former realm – proprietor of _Golden Locks_ had tried her best to save his shoulder length hair, but in the end, it was decided it had to go. There was just too much damage. He'd been forced to sit there by the still chortling queen and watch as his hair was shorn from his head. Not at all a pleasant experience when the little hairdresser was quaking in her purple suede boots. Of course, just his luck, his usual barber was on vacation.

He kicked off his shoes and simply stood there plotting his next move. He knew he wasn't going to be able to hide from his beloved wife for long … they lived together for fuck's sake! Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, he mused. Oh, who was he kidding. If there was one feature of his she adored above all others – and he still couldn't fathom why she liked _any_ part of him – it was his hair. Or floof as she liked to call it.

The Dark One felt his heart stutter painfully as the melodic sound of her humming echoed softly in the kitchen. He'd have to go right past her to be able to lock himself in his study. _Hellfire!_ What was he thinking? He dragged a lone hand over his face in disgust. He was a sorcerer … it would be nothing to simply transport himself to the room and lock himself in there until he could think of something.

Only, he wasn't quick enough. He hadn't heard her coming as she wasn't wearing her heels, but a soft pair of fuzzy socks. His terrified wide eyed gaze met hers as she stepped into the hall and time froze. He was jolted from his momentary lapse as the tea tray she was holding went crashing to the floor and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.

"Oh gods, what've you done to the floof?!" she cried, horrified as she stood there amidst broken china and spilled tea.

His hair – along with his fear of her reaction – were forgotten as he watched the hot tea inch across the floor towards her feet. "Dearest," he cried, rushing forward to scoop her up into his arms. With a thought, he vanished the mess and carried her down the hall to the library. He set her gently onto the settee and stripped the socks from her feet, assuring himself she hadn't been burned. "I'll just put these in the hamper and fetch you a fresh pair."

Belle's narrowed gaze halted him in his tracks. "Freeze!"

He cursed under his breath. He'd very nearly made it to the door.

She beckoned him back, with a crook of her finger, and patted the cushion beside her. Once he was seated next to her – albeit on the very edge as if he were waiting for the opportune moment to flee – she folded her hands on her lap and sighed. "What happened? And don't you dare even think about lying, Rumpelstiltskin."

"Would you believe I just wanted a new look?"

"Nuh uh."

"Why?"

"You're wearing a different suit. And because you know how much I adore your hair and wouldn't do such a thing without talking to me about it first." She bit her lip, worry etching her lovely features. "Darling … did something happen at the shop, or … is this about your birthday last week?"

Rumpelstiltskin buried his face in his hands and scowled, knowing he'd have to come clean with her. "This has nothing to do with my birthday. I told you, after the first century, I stopped counting. It was your bright idea to throw a party so everyone could smirk behind their hands and joke about my age."

Belle scooted closer to him, tucking her bare feet beneath her. "I threw you a party because I love you, Rumpel. I wanted to celebrate the day of your birth. You can't think I care how old you are," she said gently.

He knew she didn't. "I'm not so vain I'd cut my hair just to make myself look younger," he admitted.

"Then what happened?" she asked insistently. "I promise not to be angry. Just tell me."

"Emma," he snarled.

"Oh, dear," Belle sighed. She knew it couldn't be good when the savior asked a favor.

"She needed a potion to help rid her of a pest in town –"

"Killian perhaps?"

Her husband settled back more comfortably against the settee and felt some of his tension drain away at her levity. "Our luck isn't that good, dearest. No, we have a beast in town wreaking havoc, but nothing she and Regina won't be able to handle. I made the potion and moved to store the ingredients back in the cupboard, and I might have had a wee accident."

"How wee?" she inquired. Wee and Rumpelstiltskin's magic just didn't belong in the same sentence in her opinion.

"Just a minor explosion." He winced at the alarm on her face. "Don't get upset, dearest, as you can see I'm just fine."

"Aside from your hair," she drawled. "Was this anything like the time you let that enchanted fire loose in your laboratory? I never thought we'd rid the castle of that smell."

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. "That wasn't intentional."

"And I'm assuming this wasn't either." Belle sighed. She'd known when she married him there would be days like this. "So the shop is ok? There was only damage to your suit and your beautiful hair?"

He nodded sheepishly. "Regina convinced me to go see Zel, and she did what she could with it. Is it really so horrible?"

He looked so forlorn, she couldn't stand it. She climbed onto his lap, straddling his waist as she looked more closely at what they'd both have to live with for the next several months. "It's just not you, Rumpel. In all the time I've known you, even when you were all green and sparkly, you've had long hair."

He dropped his gaze to where they came to rest against their baby, rubbing gently over the bump. "I suppose it's little comfort for me to tell you it will grow back?"

Belle could see he was becoming more and more upset. And that was something she couldn't allow. She knew how he was treated by the others. She was the one good person in his life who he could depend on for her love and unwavering support. She brought her hands up to his short locks, the strands still soft beneath her fingers. She leaned into his embrace and pressed her lips to his. "Yes, it does."

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips.

She pulled away minutely so she could meet his troubled gaze. "I'll miss the floof … but I'm glad you weren't injured." Her nails scraped against his nape, and she could feel him hardening beneath her, which only fueled her own desire. "Please, Rumpel … you have to be more careful."

His heart beat a rapid tattoo beneath her palm as she slid the jacket from his shoulders and tossed it across the back of the settee. "I promise," he nodded fervently, wanting more of her tender ministrations. "Anything you desire, dearest."

"Anything?" she asked coyly, her hands back in his short hair, soothing him as only she knew how.

"Of course." The irony wasn't lost on him. His little wife was quite the dealmaker in her own right.

Her lips trailed a slow wet path over his jaw to the sensitive spot below his ear, causing him to shiver as he gripped her hips and brought her closer. "Take me upstairs and I'll make you forget your harrowing ordeal," she purred sinfully.

Which is what he'd wanted before Emma had come to him with her request. Belle had taken his new look better than expected, and now they had a chance to reconnect and lose themselves in one another, their love strong enough to deal with something so minor. He'd worried for nothing really.

"As my lady wishes," he breathed against her lips, his magic whisking them away in a wisp of crimson smoke.

The End


End file.
